Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing At All
by Anime Girl23
Summary: The first cut had been an accident. The second, less so. The third, she did herself. She lost count after that. Some Puck/Quinn


I broke someone that isn't Puck... Well, this is weird... This fic is based off of a screencap on tumblr of marks/scars on Quinn's arm in the last episode. Finally got a chance to get this up. The picture can be seen here: puckandquinn (dot) tumblr (dot) com (slash) post (slash) 12885728585 (slash) teadalek-lesbianfangirl-bornatnight-ok

As always, reviews are love, even if it's something short.

**WARNINGS: **Self-harm

Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.

Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing At All  
>One-shot<p>

The first time had been an accident. Honest.

She'd been in the shower. Shaving. Her legs were slippery. Her hand slipped. She'd hissed as the razor cut into her leg. Bit her tongue when she washed it off just to watch more blood rise to the surface.

By the time she stopped staring at it, the water had run cold.

It had been the first thing she'd felt in a long time.

The second time was less of an accident. She'd been holding her grandmother's cat, just waiting until it got angry enough to scratch her. It did and she got three scratches down the middle of her arm.

The third time, she flat-out did it herself. Pressed that same Venus razor to her leg and slid it sideways. One, two, three times until the weight that had been on her chest for months had gotten lighter.

As the rest of junior year wore on, she lost count of how many times she'd done it. She just watched the cuts fade into scars until even those disappeared. Then, she mourned the loss of each scar with another cut.

Her mom questioned her once when she saw a cut peeking out from the sleeve of her cardigan. She didn't even remember what she told her, but whatever stupid excuse it had been, her mother believed it.

She dealt with the guilt by making another cut.

It wasn't until Shelby returned, though, that she left the three-blade behind. It was too obvious. The cuts it made, the scars. It was too obvious. She should have stopped what she was doing. Asked for help. _Something_.

She didn't.

The safety pin wasn't the same, but it worked. The quick, sharp pain. The burn. Small, thin scratches. If anyone asked, she could just blame the cat they took in after her grandmother died.

No one asked.

So she just did it again. Gripped the tiny pin hard between her fingers and brought it down on her arm in a slash.

She watched the skin rise, angry and split as spots of blood blossomed on her skin.

And felt better.

She felt even better with the second cut.

Almost normal by the third.

* * *

><p>"I need to tell you something," Puck said as they lay curled up on her bed, "but you have to promise to keep it a secret."<p>

She hummed softly in agreement and squeezed the hand entangled in hers, just waiting for the words she already knew were coming.

"I slept with Shelby."

The words hurt more than she thought they would. She'd been prepared to hear them. She knew Puck and something in her had known he was chasing after the woman she'd let become Beth's mom. But actually hearing the words… It was like someone had knocked the wind out of her.

Suddenly, she wanted that numbness back, because this? It hurt too much.

She was pretty sure she nodded as she pulled free of him and slipped from the bed and into her en suite. The door clicked shut and she slid to the floor. She pulled at her hair. Scratched at her arms. Anything. She just needed some kind of burn. Something to focus on until her chest didn't hurt like this.

_"Did you love me?"_

_"Yes. Especially now."_

She was a fool. Puck loved a lot of girls. What made her think she was any different?

She was just a freak. A loser. She was less fit to be a mother than Shelby was. She didn't deserve either of them.

The door shook against her back as Puck's fist slammed against it. He called her name, but she didn't move. Pressed her feet against the floor as hard as she could and pressed back against the door.

She wasn't even sure how her razor got in her hand. She didn't even remember making the first cut on her wrist.

With Puck yelling her name, she couldn't even focus on the pain.

"I'm sorry."

As if he had anything to apologize for. She'd been the one that pushed him away after Beth was born. She was the one that came up with the idea to get Beth back. That _stupid_ idea that some part of her knew was never going to work. But she had to try. Beth… That was her baby. Beth would always be her baby. That beautiful little thing she and Puck had made together.

The one thing she ever did right.

All she'd wanted was to fix the mistake she'd made when she signed the adoption papers.

_"I'd take care of it. You too."_

_"This parent thing? We can do this."_

_"I want to be with you."_

_"We could be a family."_

She sobbed as she made another cut and Puck got the door open. He swore, muttering the same word under his breath over and over as he tore the razor from her hand. She was pretty sure he threw it, but she couldn't see past the tears as he pulled her against his chest and pressed a towel to her arm.

"Quinn," he whispered, sounding almost choked as he rocked them. "Jesus…"

She didn't know how long they sat on her bathroom floor, rocking and sobbing until her throat hurt more than her arm did. Until his shirt was wet and the towel clung to dry blood. She barely blinked when he slowly pulled it away and reached for a clean one he'd wet in the tub without once letting her go.

"Quinn-"

"Don't," she whispered, watching as he slowly washed the blood away.

Her arm was a mess. Even more than usual. She'd never cut this badly in one spot before.

"Shit," he breathed. "Should we…do you need a hospital?"

"No. They aren't deep." Just flesh wounds. A three-blade could only do so much damage when the blades were packed so closely together and bound in plastic. "It looks worse than it is."

"Why?"

"I don't want to die," she told him, watching as one cut started to bleed again. "I just wanted to feel something."

His grip tightened on her and he pressed a kiss to her temple like he knew what else she wasn't saying. Like he knew that, this time, she'd just wanted to _stop_ feeling.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head at him and used her free hand to pull the hem of her dress up before she could talk herself out of it. She pulled it up to her waist and closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see Puck's face when he saw the mess of cuts, stretching from the tops of her thighs to under her bellybutton.

She knew it was ugly.

That she'd made herself ugly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. For messing everything up since they first slept together. For Beth. For cutting. For everything.

His finger traced every cut. Every scar. She fell asleep on the bathroom floor while he hummed Beth's song under his breath.

When she woke up, she was in her bed, her arm was bandaged, and he was pressed up against her back.

"No," he mumbled half asleep when she tried to pull her arm from his grip. "No more."

"Puck-"

"No more."

The End

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